Now it gets a bit interesting as we introduce our secondary characters. Don't worry, you'll get your fluff and angst in equal measure as the chapters progress. At any rate, I'm in the middle of working on the next chapters, so please please please tell me what you think so far. I have absolutely no clue if I'm doing this right.


Nadir Khan was both a gentleman and an expert assassin. One had to be both, after all, if you're in the business of protecting the wealthy. But Erik Destler occupied a special place in Nadir's heart. The Iranian-American had never married, and his dalliances with women were few and far between, and so he treated the heir of the Destler fortune as though the boy was the son he'd never had. This was especially true since this was Erik's first time to actually attend school. His parents instilled in him a fear of crowds, taught him to fear his deformities, and he grew up with a series of private tutors who were all paid with generous salaries in order to ensure their silence. And yet Erik was insistent upon attending Cathedral College, going as far as threatening Nadir when the older man tried to dissuade him. "My father would have wanted it," he said with an air of finality. Nadir conceded.

Now, Nadir sat in the kitchen with a cup of tea long gone cold in front of him. The clock hanging above the refrigerator read 5:25. The newspaper beside him had been folded and re-folded too many times to count. He'd already done the crossword, in pen, and finished the sudoku panels. The servants were instructed to stay away for the afternoon; he could hear them scurrying above like soft-footed mice. Erik was due back any minute now and Nadir was unsure whether or not he would be needed for a listening ear or for his ability to kill silently and without a trace.

He heard the town car drive up to the front of the brownstone, the car door slam, and the front door open. "Nadir?" called out Erik.

"In here."

Erik burst into the kitchen, and for a moment, Nadir's heart stopped. But he forced himself to take a sip of his tea, attempt not to spit it out, and watched as Erik crossed the kitchen, side-stepping the island, and making his way to the industrial-sized fridge. The boy brought out bread and ham and mustard and started assembling a sandwich. "I know what you're thinking, old Khan," he said as he carefully aligned the ham slices on the pieces of bread.

"And what am I thinking, Erik?"

"How was my day at school."

"And indeed, how was your day at school?"

Erik raised his eyes and considered Nadir for a moment. "I had a good day. I made friends."

"Ah." Something in Nadir's heart eased. "This is good to know."

"You were worried, weren't you?" Erik took a large bite of his sandwich and chewed thoughtfully.

"Nonsense. You're a perfectly sociable young man."

"I'm the devil's spawn, if my mother is to be believed."

Nadir rolled his eyes. "I've met the devil, and between the two of you, he is still more handsome."

Erik laughed; Nadir was surprised to hear such a sound come from his charge's mouth. "And this is why I keep you around, old Khan."

"I aim to please, Erik. I aim to please."


Christine twisted the knob open and let herself in. Her key was hanging on a chain around her neck. She was quite thankful that her aunt had finally trusted her enough to give her a key to the house, and she didn't want to abuse that trust. "I'm home!" she called out as she dropped her bag and books in the front hall and wandered towards the kitchen.

Meg was seated at the kitchen table, her laptop open and spreadsheets scattered on the surface of the table. "Hey, Chris," she said absently as Christine dumped her fruit container in the sink and grabbed a glass of orange juice from the fridge. "How was Cathedral?"

"Pretty good. Lots of work." Christine sat beside Meg and considered her childhood friend as Meg continued working. She's definitely prettier than me, Christine decided. Meg had the face of a porcelain doll, fine-boned and pale, her lips naturally red and her bright blond hair hanging like a shining river down her shoulders. She had the grace of movement and flexibility of a ballerina in her prime, thanks to the rigorous training of her mother. Christine considered herself: two left feet, bony elbows, a flat chest, and a riot of curly hair that refused to be tamed. She wrinkled her nose. Might as well prepare for spinsterhood now.

"Made any friends?" Meg had always been concerned for her best friend; Christine wasn't naturally friendly, preferring to keep to herself and her music instead of hanging out at the mall or watching movies. Meg was used to company - she'd been training with the same group of girls since childhood, and most of them were now also apprenticed at the ballet. But Christine was used to moving from country to country, thanks to her father's job, and never really put down roots ever since Uncle Charles' death. She was happy that Christine had come to live with them, but also knew that if she didn't keep on trying to draw Christine out of her shell, the girl would soon become a ghost as well.

"I did, actually."

Meg raised her head from her computer. "Little Miss Leave-Me-Alone made friends on her first day?"

"Well, to be fair, it wasn't my intention. He ran into me." Christine told Meg about running into Erik, and later on being introduced to Raoul. Meg listened, the grin on her face growing wider and wider.

"Two boys, huh?" Meg said, once Christine had finished. "Someone's the little heartbreaker in college."

Christine laughed. "Trust me, I have no interest in dating either of them. Plus, I think Erik was in an accident or something. He wears a mask over half of his face."

"Maybe he's a soldier or something, and he came back from Iraq or something?"

"I don't think so," mused Christine. "He doesn't look the type. Too pale. Too skinny."

"In other words, just your type."

"I don't have a type, Meg Giry. And I'm not planning on dating anyone in Cathedral. I have a scholarship to keep and a career to figure out."

Meg reached over and patted Christine's hand. "Sure, honey, that's what they all say."


Philippe de Chagny knocked once on his younger brother's door before opening it. Raoul was on his desk, papers and books scattered all over every available inch of space. "Lots of work today?"

Raoul looked up and gave Philippe a tired smile. "College is difficult."

"And it's just the first day." Philippe sat on the edge of Raoul's bed. "Still regretting not taking up my offer of interning at the Paris office?"

Raoul laughed and swiveled around so that he faced his brother. "Tempting, all those opera ballerinas."

"Very limber."

"Flexible, even."

Philippe guffawed. The older de Chagny was a barrel-chested man, his body more suited to that of a woodcutter than a businessman. He dressed sleekly, kept his beard trimmed, but one could sense the raw power beneath the suit and expensive Italian shoes. Even his voice made Raoul tremble, and that was only when he was speaking softly. "How was your first day at Cathedral?"

"Composition professor was being a dick. Made some new friends. Itching to start playing the guitar again." Raoul shrugged. "Oh, I met the Destler boy."

"Charles' kid? I thought he was overseas or something." Philippe had a pensive look on his face. "His dad was a good guy. Helped us a lot. We owe a lot to the Destlers."

"So you said." Raoul smiled. "You don't mind?"

"No, of course not." Philippe stood up and clapped a meaty hand on his brother's shoulders. "Invite your friends over some time, if you'd like. I'll be heading to London to check in on the operations next week. If you want to have a party here, be my guest."

"Encouraging me to be a stereotype, aren't you?" Raoul grinned.

"Well, you only live once. Might as well make the most of it."


So what do you think? Any suggestions on the party? Don't worry, the masquerade will happen later on. I've got this all figured out - I think. :)

Also, I have Ramin in my head as Erik and Hadley as Raoul, and a rather fluffy-haired Sierra as Christine. Who do you have in your head?